


Standing Room Only

by romanticalgirl



Series: On Broadway [1]
Category: American (US) Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Broadway, Gen, Marijuana, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:24:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: Broadway is a big thing. Big things make Chris nervous. Sebastian does his best to help. Chris is still an anxious mess, but he's got a friend along the way.**





	Standing Room Only

“How’s it feel?”

“You know how it feels.” Chris reminds him then sighs. “No reviews yet. Ask me after they come in.”

“How does it _feel_ , Christopher?” Sebastian asks a little more sharply. Sebastian gets in his own way a lot, but Chris is probably the grand master of it. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit. I mean.” He sighs again. “People are probably wondering who I think I am, thinking I can do this.”

“You’re an actor. You’re acting. That’s how it works.”

“You know that’s not it.”

Sebastian hums softly. “I know. But I also know that you’re an amazing actor. And I know that you looked happy as hell when you stood there for the applause.”

“No. You told me you weren’t going.”

“Hm. I lied.”

“Seb. Dammit.”

“Did you really think I was going to be in town and _not_ see it? C’mon. What kind of friend would I be?”

“The kind that tells the truth. Fuck.” Chris slumps back against the couch in his rented apartment. Sebastian had offered him a place to stay, especially since he was going to be out doing promotion for Infinity War, but it would have felt weird being there without Sebastian. He doesn’t want to be there without Sebastian, which says a lot more about things than Chris wants to admit.

“Hey. You were good. It was good. I love it when you play morally ambiguous characters. It makes the rest of us feel more human.” 

Chris closes his eyes, because he doesn’t think he can handle another potshot at being Captain America. He knows that’s what the reviews will say. Not how he did, but how he either did or didn’t bring the Cap persona with him. He’s grateful as hell that he took the offer Marvel gave him, and he’s thrilled with everything it’s allowed him to do both work-wise and on a humanitarian level, but still. He knows that, no matter who or what he portrays in the future, people will compare it to Cap.

There’s quiet on the other end of the line and Chris shakes his head. “Sorry. What?”

“Oh, good. You are still with me.” Sebastian laughs softly. “I wasn’t talking about him. I was talking about you. I don’t know if you’re aware, but you’re actually kind of a decent person. All by yourself.”

“Flattery’s not going to get you anywhere, Stan. I’m onto you.”

“Ha. If only.” Sebastian growls then laughs. It’s almost like he can hear Chris’s blush. “You want to get dinner on Monday? Since you’re going to be too busy being an _act-or_ for the press tour.” 

Chris sighs. “I feel like shit about missing it. Marvel’s kind of pissed. They’d be more pissed if there wasn’t another movie in the can. You bet your ass I’m going to have to be on that tour.”

“Well, yeah. Your last run as Cap.” There’s something in Sebastian’s voice that makes Chris’s chest ache. “Fuck, I’m going to miss you.”

“Yeah.” Chris swallows hard. “Me too. You. I mean, we’ll still talk. Hang out.”

“Oh yeah. Not getting rid of me and Mackie that easy.” Sebastian laughs. “Try as you might.”

**

Sundays are exhausting with two shows, and thankfully it’s just the first week, so he didn’t have to do two on Saturday as well. Hopefully by the time next Saturday rolls around he’ll be ready for it. He knows he’s worked longer hours, harder schedules, but he didn’t have to be _on_ all the time, even when he was the star of the movie. This is several straight hours of being on the top of his game.

When Sebastian calls him mid-morning on Monday, Chris is still in bed. His voice is a little hoarse, so he’s on his second cup of ‘throat coat’. He glances at the caller ID and smiles before he answers. “Hey, Seb.”

“Fuck, you sound like you’ve been giving blow jobs all night. I’m pretty sure I told you it’s not worth it to blow the reviewers. Then they have two performances to judge. Plus it’s hell on your throat.”

“You’re the worst human being in the world.”

“Pretty sure that’s Mackie.”

“Tie.”

“Eh.” Sebastian’s voice is light. “I’ll take it.”

“Magnanimous of you.”

“That’s me. So. We still on for dinner?”

“You mind if I order something in? Not sure I can handle being in public tonight.”

“Yeah. Of course. I get that.” He hears some low curses on Sebastian’s end of the line. “Hit me up with the address.”

Chris tells him and closes his eyes. “What kind of food are you in the mood for?”

“You’re near that place on Baker. Order something from there? They’ll deliver.”

“What time?”

“When do you want me?”

Chris exhales slowly. “You can come over anytime. You know that.”

“Well, now,” Sebastian’s grin is obvious in his voice. “I don’t know. Maybe you have some hot, gorgeous thing in your bed.”

“And you think that because I’m talking to you?”

“Maybe you’re really good at talking during a blow job. Or sex.”

“Nah. Much too vocal for that.” Chris feels his blush stain his cheeks. It’s not a lie, but there’s absolutely no reason Sebastian needs to know that. “Trust me, if I’m having sex, people know it.”

“Reeeeeeeally.” Sebastian practically cackles. “That is such good information to know. And possibly blackmail you with.”

“And everyone would want to know how you’d know something like that.”

“I’ve roomed right next to you. My knowledge of your sexual habits could absolutely come from me hearing you while your bed was bangin’ against the wall.”

“You are so hideously crass.”

“Yeah. That’s why you love me. I’ll see you in a couple hours. I’ll bring beer.”

**

Chris hasn’t bothered showering or getting dressed. He’s dressed in sweats and a too-big t-shirt when he opens the door, and he rolls his eyes as Sebastian looks him over. “I honestly did not know you owned a shirt that big.”

“You know, that joke’s never been funny.”

“No one thinks it’s funny. Everyone praises their god that you have no concept of how shirt sizes work. Seriously. You are a true philanthropist.”

“You are a true asshole.” He takes the beer from Sebastian and carries it into the kitchen. “Why do I like you again?”

“I think it’s the facial hair..” Sebastian settles on one of the barstools at the counter. “Or maybe my charming personality and dashing good looks.”

“No, it definitely can’t be those. That would require you to _have_ them.”

Sebastian leans over the counter and flicks Chris with his middle finger. “Who’s the asshole now?” He snags a beer and holds out his hand, waiting for Chris to give him the bottle opener. He snaps the lid off then does the same for Chris’s. “Jealous asshole.”

Chris takes his beer and gives Sebastian a smile. Part of why he invited him was this. Sebastian makes him laugh. Makes him feel better. He heads over to the couch and sits, spreading his legs in a relaxed sprawl. Sebastian joins him and does the same, their knees touching. 

“Seriously though.” Sebastian turns to look at Chris. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah. I’m loving it. I mean, taking the bow every night is strange.” He takes a drink of his beer and sighs heavily. “But, I don’t know. I wonder are they clapping because I’m doing a good job or are they clapping because of who I am. Or are they clapping because everyone else is great and I suck.”

“How are you the person you are and yet still so insecure?” Chris gives him a look, because they’ve talked about how Sebastian has some of the same problems - getting lost in his head, getting in his own way. Sebastian shrugs. It’s easy to give advice or chastise someone. Not always easy to apply it to your own life. Chris knows. They’ve had that conversation before as well. “Besides, you know I wouldn’t bullshit you. And I told you that you were good.”

“You would one-hundred percent bullshit me.”

“Not about this.” Sebastian moves his leg so he can bump his knee against Chris’s. “You know that too.”

“Yeah.” Chris bumps his fist on Sebastian’s thigh. “I do. Fuck.” He takes a drink of his beer and sighs, dropping his head back on the couch. “I just want to be _good_.”

“You are.” Sebastian turns, one leg on the couch and the other on the floor. He reaches out and pokes Chris in the cheek. “You’re an amazing actor, Chris. Talented and smart. And all this?” He gestures with his hand, up and down Chris’s body. “That’s just icing on the cake, and if people can’t see past that? Fuck ‘em.”

“Yeah, fuck ‘em isn’t really tenable when your entire career depends on them liking you.” Chris shakes his head. “Okay. We need to talk about something else before I jump out of the window.”

“None of that.” He pokes Chris’s cheek again. “C’mon. Let me see that Evans smile. Grab your left boob. Something.”

Chris fights his smile, but it doesn’t do any good. He turns his head quickly and bites at Sebastian’s finger, which he manages to pull out of his reach just in time. “Thanks for coming over.”

“Eh. I didn’t have anything better to do.”

**

The hockey game is on in the background while they eat, neither of them really watching. Sebastian’s talking about roles he’s reading for and what the schedule is for the press tour run. They’re trying to arrange the New York premiere on a Monday so that Chris can come - hideous moustache and all according to Sebastian. Chris tells him that anyone who spent a month in the Gillooly moustache has absolutely no room to talk.

Sebastian talks about working with Nicole Kidman and the reactions to his new look and, before they know it, the game’s over and it’s almost one AM. “Fuck.” Chris sighs. “I need to crash.”

“Yeah, yeah. Old man.”

“One year, asshole.” 

“Ancient.” He smiles and Chris has to swallow hard.

“Thank you.” 

“No. None of that shit.”

“Shut up. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He jabs Sebastian in the ribs. “Thank you. Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaank you.”

“God,” Sebastian slaps at Chris’s hand. “You are an asshole. Fuck. Quit it.” He’s fighting a laugh, as he kicks at Chris’s leg. “Fuck. Evans. Stop it. You’re assaulting me.” He leans back, carefully making sure all of the ticklish spots Chris knows about are out of range. “You’re the worst.”

“Aw. You love me.”

“Yeah. You’re lucky I do.” Sebastian sits up and leans over, planting a smacking kiss on Chris’s cheek. “You know, I’ve already got tickets for your actual opening night. I’m bringing Mackie.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Sebastian wiggles his eyebrows. “Oh, now I’m _definitely_ bringing him.”

“You are the worst friend, and I don’t like you anymore.”

“Ha. You can’t not love me. I am literally the best and you know it.” He levers himself off the couch and grabs his beer bottles and some of the remaining food. Chris does the same, following Sebastian into the kitchen. 

Chris puts the food away as Sebastian tosses all their bottles into the recycling bin. He turns and looks at Chris, the laugh lines of his eyes standing out as he smiles. Chris moves in and hugs him tight. “Thank you. Really.”

Sebastian presses his head against Chris’s shoulder. “You’re welcome. Anytime. Now, get some sleep. And break a leg, huh?”

**

Chris is slumped on his couch, eyes closed. The knock on his door causes him to groan. He rolls off the couch onto his knees. He forces himself onto his feet and slouches toward the door. He leans against the wall and opens the door. 

“Wow. You are quite the welcoming committee.” Sebastian laughs and taps Chris on the nose. “What happened to you?”

“I can’t sleep.” He drops his head against the wall. “Can you just knock me out?”

“You could take something?”

“No.” Chris shakes his head. “Not allowed.” 

“Mm.” Sebastian pushes him back, walks inside, and shuts the door behind him. “Drink?”

“Had two.” 

“Okay. C’mon.” He takes Chris by the wrist and tugs him to the couch. He sits down and tugs Chris in front of him on the floor between Sebastian’s spread legs. “Shirt off.”

“I’m not going to be your sex object.”

“Take your shirt off, idiot.” 

Chris does as he’s told, sighing as he tosses it aside. Sebastian grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him until Chris’s back is against the base of the couch. His hands settle on the slope of skin between Chris’s neck and his shoulder. He squeezes slightly and Chris groans. 

“See? Listen to Sebastian. That should be your credo.” He starts rubbing Chris’s shoulders, his thumbs on the back of his neck. “Jesus, Chris.”

He bows his head. “I know. I know.”

“You need to take more breaths. Tell me you’re not like this on the stage.”

“Only after. Which is why I can’t sleep.”

“You need to get laid.”

“That’s always your answer.”

“It is a good answer.”

“Requires someone to get laid with. By. Whatever.” Chris moans softly as Sebastian digs into his upper back. “Jesus fuck.”

“I’m going to hire you a massage therapist. Every night they’re going to beat you into submission.”

“I don’t need to know about your kinks.”

Sebastian laughs as Chris makes a low desperate noise. “You’re the one moaning.”

“This was all your idea.” He catches his breath as Sebastian hits a knot. “Oh god. Fuck.” 

“Seriously. A massage therapist and someone to fuck you senseless.”

“I can see that in the headli- Oh god.” Chris slumps forward, making a low noise. 

“Now you’re just being pornographic. Massage therapist who will fuck you senseless.” 

Chris lifts his hand so he can flip Sebastian off, though he’s pretty sure that it loses its effectiveness when he makes another noise.

“Just lie down on your stomach.”

Chris pushes the coffee table out of the way and stretches out on the floor. Sebastian settles on Chris’s ass and runs his hands from the waistband of Chris’s sweatpants up to his shoulders. Chris drops his head to the floor and forces out a long breath. “You could do it.”

Sebastian freezes. “Pardon?”

“You’re good at this. Massage. Not the… Shit. Not the other thing.” He laughs, too high pitched. “Shit. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I didn’t think that you were propositioning me.” He keeps rubbing his hands up and down Chris’s back.He digs the heels of his hands into the curve of Chris’s shoulder blades. “You know you don’t have anything to worry about. I wish you’d listen to me instead of your head.”

“I know it’s stupid. I just can’t seem to help it. Just doesn’t shut up, you know?” Sebastian moves his hands up, along the back of Chris’s neck before sliding them along his short hair, scrubbing at his scalp with his fingertips. He leans and presses his mouth against the curve of Chris’s skull. 

“Dear Chris’s brain. Hush.”

Chris smiles, reaching up and covering Sebastian’s hand with his own, squeezing it lightly. “Thank you.”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“I would.”

“I know.” Sebastian doesn’t move. “Hush.”

They stay like that for a long time, their breathing falling in unison. Chris smiles and closes his eyes.

**

He wakes up with Sebastian still against his back. His head is in the crook of Chris’s neck, his breath soft. Chris closes his eyes again for a moment then rolls over fast. Sebastian thunks on the floor and curses, soimething Chris can’t understand, which means it’s probably Romanian.

“You’re an asshole. Fuck.”

That Chris understands. “You were drooling.”

“I don’t drool.”

Chris runs his fingers along the side of his neck. “Ew. Sebastian spit.”

Sebastian kicks him, and pretty soon they’re having some combination of a kick and slap fight. Chris tries to grab Sebastian’s hands, but Sebastian manages to grab Chris’s first. “Not the face. Not the face.”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy.” Chris wrenches his hands away. “I won’t mess up your livelihood.”

“Better not. How the hell else am I gonna pay rent?” He stretches out next to Chris. “Feel better?”

“Yeah. Thanks. You’re still hired if you want to come over every night.” Chris tries to bite back a grin and fails. “Give me a rubdown.”

“Oh my god. Never say that again.” He flicks Chris in the middle of his forehead. “The internet is bad enough.”

“You love it. You wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t give you shit.”

“That’s not shit. That’s flatout sexual harassment.”

“You wish.”

Sebastian sits up and shrugs. “Well, yeah. Obviously. I mean, You’re Chris Evans. Weren’t you, like, People’s sexiest man alive?”

“Nope. Never managed it. It’s terrible. My life is bereft.” He reaches out and rubs his hand over the top of Sebastian’s head. “Maybe you’ll make it, and you can be my idol. Sebastian Stan, you’re my heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeero.”

“Have I told you you’re an asshole yet today?”

“No, and I’m terribly sad. Not feeling the love.”

Sebastian leans in close. “You’re an asssssssssssssssssssssssshole.”

Chris presses his hand to his heart. “Yes. Thank you. My life is complete.”

“You’re such an idiot.” This time Chris sticks his tongue out at him. Sebastian’s hand snaps out and he grabs it. Chris starts laughing and shoving at him. Chris ends up pinning him down. Sebastian lets his tongue go and smiles up at him. “What?”

“I’m not sure how I’m going to do this when you’re not around.”

“You are talented and smart and a good actor and you need to just _believe_ that. Okay? And even when I’m not around, you can call or text Got it?”

“Yeah. Sorry. God, I’m such a nutcase.”:

“Hey. Don’t talk about my friend like that.” 

Chris moves away from him and sits back against the couch. “I promise I won’t call you every day. Well, at least not more than once a day. I’ll call Mackie in the morning and you at night.”

“Or you could believe in yourself just as much as we believe in you.” Sebastian sits up as well and gets up. He walks over and settles on the couch next to Chris, resting his hand on the back of his neck. “You’re doing great, Chris.”

Chris tilts his head, resting it on Sebastian’s knee. He takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. Sebastian scratches his fingers through Chris’s hair. 

“I mean, you look ridiculous. Don’t go down on anyone with that caterpillar on your face. I mean.” Sebastian starts laughing. “Okay, I’m picturing it, and…”

Chris pinches Sebastian’s thigh just behind his knee. “Fuck you.”

“No, seriously, just.” He lies back on the couch, laughing harder than Chris thinks it’s worth. Of course, Chris is mostly embarrassed as fuck. And trying not to laugh, because he’s picturing it too, and it’s ridiculous, and because Sebastian’s laugh is infectious.. But he refuses to give Sebastian the satisfaction. Still, he gets on his knees, shoves Sebastian’s leg apart and moves between them. He rests his head on the top of Sebastian’s thigh and looks up at him.

Sebastian looks down and stops laughing for a moment, something serious hanging in the air, and then he cracks up again. Chris frowns at him. “I hate you.”

“Just. And the. Oh, god. Give me the bedroom eyes. I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.” 

Chris sticks out his tongue and Sebastian loses it completely. Slapping his thigh, Chris moves back. He rolls his eyes. “God, you’re the worst. Go away.”

“I do have to.” Sebastian gets up and holds a hand out, tugging Chris to his feet. He pulls him into a hug and ruffles Chris’s hair with his hand. “Call me though if you need to, okay?”

“I will.”

**

He doesn’t call. The run is going well, and he doesn’t feel that desperate gnawing anxiety. At least not consistently. It’s still there right before he goes on, but he’s sleeping again and the audience reviews are decent. There’s nothing extremely negative about him, and most of them seem to be from people who are there to see the play, not him. 

He’s out in the city, drinking his coffee and walking Dodger when his phone rings. He juggles things before finally getting it fished out of his pocket. “Evans.”

“You must be kind of important. Both U.S. premieres on Mondays. Guess we see how you rate in the grand scheme of things.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you get all the good press.” Sebastian laughs, and Chris has to smile. “Where are you these days?”

“Out in LA. Doing some photo shoots. Some auditions. You know, working for a living.” He yawns. “Woke up before my alarm and thought I’d bother you.”

“Still on New York time, huh?”

“Something like that. Actually got a decent night’s sleep.”

“You weren’t out all night partying, huh? No hookers and blow?”

“Nah, figured I’d save that for the press tour. Keep things interesting.”

“I want you to say that to Marvel. But only when I can watch.” Chris gets back to his apartment building and lets himself in. He waits for the elevator, leaning against the wall. “Promise.”

“I promise the hookers and blow will be there at the premieres. I won’t let you down.” Sebastian’s quiet for a moment just as the elevator arrives. Chris gets in with Dodger and presses the button for his floor. “So you haven’t called. You doing alright?”

“Yeah. Good. Getting used to the pace. It’s good. Hard, but good.”

“How many times have your parents come up to see you?”

“I made them promise to keep the family away until opening night.”

Sebastian hums. “So, how many times have your parents come to see you?”

Chris laughs. “Three. That I know of.”

“I’ve seen some shots of you coming and going. Does Dodger know you’re cheating on him with any dog that comes your way?”

“He was a _good_ dog.” Chris makes a face at his phone. “And he didn’t ask me to sign a damn thing.”

“What kind of fan is he? Jeez.” Chris laughs and he can hear Sebastian trying not to on the other side of the call. Dodger shakes his head, collar jingling, and Chris realizes they’re at his door. He unlocks it and takes off Dodger’s leash and lets him run inside while he closes and locks the door, hangs up the leash. 

“Not that I don’t appreciate the check in, but what’s up? “

“I’ve texted you!”

“I know. But this is above and beyond.”

“Yeah, well. Radio silence makes me nervous.”

“I’ve texted you back.”

“I didn’t know it was you. Could have been Dodger. Who knows what he gets up to when you’re not around.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Not news. What is news is that I’ll be back in town in a couple days. Thought I’d see what you’re up to. Maybe do dinner or something.”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty in demand.” Chris laughs at Sebastian’s silence. “Yeah. Let me know and we’ll get together. It’ll be good to see you.” 

“Aw. You’re not just saying that to make me feel good, are you?”

“No.” Chris squats down to pet Dodger. Dodger’s tail starts wiggling, and Chris isn’tsure if he hears Sebastian’s voice or if he just wants to lick the phone for no reason. “I just want another massage.”

“You’d better buy beer.”

**

Sebastian stays in New York, giving Chris shit over the phone and coming over every once in a while for beer and pizza. Every time he makes Chris promise not to tell Don, and Chris just rolls his eyes. 

The problem is that time keeps moving and opening night and actual entertainment reviews are going to come in and Chris is crawling out of his skin. He calls Anthony and informs him that there’s no fucking way he can do this. He accidentally hangs up on him when someone knocks at his door, apologizing even though the line’s dead. 

He looks out the peephole and then unlocks the door, swinging it open. Sebastian walks in with a bottle of good booze, a six pack of beer, and there’s a plastic baggie hanging from between his teeth.

He takes the baggie and looks at Sebastian with raised eyebrows. “Are you serious?”

“You’ve got eight hours until you go on. We’re gonna smoke and drink for a while, then you’re going to shower and get dressed up all fancy. Hit the carpet and make all the girls swoon. Or, you know, cringe in fear of that thing. I hope you haven’t had sex with it.”

“How can I have sex with my own mustache?”

“Maybe you’re really bendy.”

“I’m wasn’t the gold medal gymnast.” Chris goes into the kitchen and comes back with a box of matches and rolling papers. Sebastian just grins. “Shut up.”

“You shut up. And roll.” Sebastian sets the bottle on the counter and carries the beers over to the coffee table. He pulls two out of the box and cracks them both open, nuding one down the table toward Chris. He nods his thanks, focus on the joint. Sebastian watches as he finishes it off. “You are a fucking pot sculptor.”

“You’re already stoned.”

“I am perfectly sober, thank you very much. I saved myself for you.” Sebastian picks up his beer and holds it out. “To officially losing your Broadway virginity.”

“Oh, that’s no pressure.”

“You can cry and tell your mom all about it.”

“I don’t know why I lie and tell people you’re my friend.” He hands Sebastian the joint. His phone dings and he swipes it, typing in a quick response. “I hung up on Mackie. Not on purpose. Wasn’t expecting the doorbell.”

“You’re a mess. Drink.” He leans over for the matches and lights one, holding it to the paper until it crackles. He takes a few soft puffs and then pulls smoke into his lungs, holding it long enough that Chris’s chest starts to hurt. Finally he exhales and rolls his head toward Chris, smiling as he hands him the joint.

They pass it back and forth, Chris inhaling deeply and waiting until his eyes water and his chest heaves a little before blowing out. Sebastian imitates him, coughing roughly when Chris makes a face and makes him laugh. 

“ _Such_ an asshole.”

Chris takes another hit and leans his head back, blowing the smoke slowly up at the ceiling. “Did I tell you Jenny and I split up again?”

“Mm. I heard.”

“Want kids, you know? Wanted to make it work. She told me I was looking in the wrong direction. I’m not sure what that means.” He inhales again before passing the joint back. “Is it funny or sad, do you think? That a guy who wants a family as bad as I do can’t seem to manage to find someone, work it out somehow.”

“You can’t just have a Broadway debut, huh? You have to have a existential breakdown?” Sebastian reaches over and squeezes Chris’s thigh. “You’re a little young for a mid-life crisis. You comfortable in your sexuality? Oh my god, are you pregnant?”

Chris snorts and jabs Sebastian with his elbow. “I could be a seahorse.”

Sebastian loses it, nearly choking when he tries to inhale and laugh at the same time. “Please. Please, if you’re truly my friend, say that in an interview. Please. I will love you forever. _I_ will have your babies.”

“You wish you could have my babies.”

“Shut up and roll another.”

**

Sebastian comes backstage just specifically to tell Chris, “I told you so”, but he does it with such a big, proud smile that Chris can’t complain. He doesn’t stay long, because he says he doesn’t want to take anything away from the night for Chris. Chris knows Sebastian’s going to get bombarded by fans, but he also knows that by the time he goes out, Sebastian will be long gone, and their focus will be back on Chris.

He’s not sure if he wants to thank him for that or not.

He goes to the after party and has a few drinks, makes the rounds. He feels good. Different than he’s felt in a long time. There’s something immediate to a play, something he hasn’t had since he was a kid. No waiting and being another cog in a machine. Plays are all just the players. No fancy CGI, no post-production.

He shakes a few hands and tells everyone he’ll see them tomorrow, and heads out. Heads home. He’s got someone to walk Dodger for him, so he’s not worried, plus there are puppy pads out on the wood-enclosed patio off his sliding glass door. But still. Dodger means home and a shower and the ability to shake out of his skin without anyone seeing.

He walks inside his apartment and turns on the light. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Sebastian waves from where he’s sitting on the couch, still in the outfit he’d worn to the play, though he’d taken his jacket off. “Hi. Sorry.”

“How the fuck did you get in here? Jesus.”

“Your dog-walker let me in. I maybe used coercion. We have to do a selfie or something. With Dodger. It’s… Yeah. Anyway. Here.” 

Chris walks over to the coffee table, where Sebastian’s got a laptop open. He sits down warily and tilts the screen slightly. Chris takes a deep breath and lets it out and starts to read. Sebastian gets up and walks around the back of the couch, fingers trailing over Chris’s shoulders as he goes. 

“All the tabs are for you. Click them. There’ll be a quiz.”

Chris hates reading his press. Good. Bad. Indifferent. Indifferent is always the hardest. His job is to make people feel _something_. When he fails to make them feel anything… But this is visceral. Immediate, just like the play. 

And it’s good.

There are a few that are less than glowing, but Chris knows they’re in there just as deliberately as the good ones. He clicks each one closed when he’s done reading. The last one is the New York Times interview. “Really?”

“You broke a million hearts that day. And the train thing? That was just in poor taste.” He comes back and has the bottle of booze he’d brought earlier and two glasses. He opens the bottle and the strong scent of tequila fills the air. He fills a glass for each of them and hands Chris to him. “Movie star. Broadway star. How’s it feel?”

“I feel… I guess I just feel like me.”

“That.” Sebastian touches Chris in the middle of the chest. “That is because you’re good at what you do.” He raises his glass. “You’re a good man, Charlie Brown.”

Chris raises his glass and taps it lightly against Sebastian’s. “You’re my best friend.”

“I know,” Sebastian says with a resigned sigh, but his eyes are bright and his face is flushed, pleased. “How’d you get so lucky?”

“Must’ve done something right in a past life.”

“I don’t know.” Sebastian puts his arm around Chris’s shoulders and pulls him close in a hug. “You’re doing pretty damn all right in this one.”

**Author's Note:**

> rebloggable on tumblr [here](http://romanticalgirl.tumblr.com/post/172300204859/fic-standing-room-only)


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